


The Prophet's Apprentice

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cock Cages, Cock Warming, Dom Kevin, Dom/sub, M/M, Sub Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:19:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3967648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam helps Kevin with some research while Dean and Cas are on a hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prophet's Apprentice

Sam’s hair is soft between Kevin’s fingers. He strokes them slowly through the other man’s locks, rubbing gently at Sam’s scalp, following the curve of his skull down to his neck, then starting over again. Some of the caresses are lighter, just a trailing of fingers brushing the hair back from Sam’s forehead or tracing the curve of his hairline. 

The puff of Sam’s contented sigh blows warmly over Kevin’s belly, making him shiver as it teases over the sensitive skin. Smiling, Kevin runs his fingertips over Sam’s jawline, thumb stroking over his cheekbone, and he sighs himself when Sam tilts his face ever so slightly into the touch. 

“Good boy, Sam,” Kevin intones softly, turning his attention back to the book in front of him. There’s one more section of lore to trawl through, which hopefully has the answer he’s looking for; otherwise, he’s going to have to leave his comfortable position to fetch more books and scrolls. 

Flicking through page after page, Kevin resigns himself to failure when nothing turns up. He grumbles and draws gingerly back from the table, wet cock slipping from between Sam’s lips as he stands. The cooler air of the room makes him shudder, and he tucks himself just inside his boxers to ward off the chill. Sam whines low, a question and a protest rolled into one. 

“I need to grab more texts. Behave, Sam,” he orders, browsing quickly over the next section of books on the shelf. Only a few look promising, and Kevin fears this is going to be another all-nighter instead of the quick job he’d thought it’d be. 

Settling back in his chair, Kevin untucks his cock and sighs a little when he’s back in the warm wetness of Sam’s mouth. He gives Sam’s cheek a brief pat, flipping the first tome open and squinting at the faded text. It’s a mere half hour later before he gives a small whoop of victory, taking a snapshot of the page and quickly texting it to Dean. 

“I got it,” he beams, leaning back in his chair far enough to see Sam’s face. The older man looks pleased, his forehead smooth, free of stress lines. 

Kevin thumbs along his lips, wet with spit and stretched to accommodate his cock. “Work time is done then. Get me hard, Sam.” 

Sam starts with light laps of his tongue, rolling soft flesh between his lips. As Kevin hardens, he starts to suck, adding short bobs of his head that  grow longer and faster until the prophet’s cock is thick and heavy on his tongue. He stops then, only sucking gently as he looks up for more orders, and Kevin strokes his hand through Sam’s hair tenderly. 

“You’ve been very patient, and so well behaved. Finish me, and we’ll go relax, hmm?” 

Leaning back in the chair, Kevin rests one hand on Sam’s cheek, feeling the motion and press of his cock in the other man’s mouth. He slumps back in the chair, letting pleasure wash over him as he takes in the sight of Sam on his hands and knees below the table and of pink lips around his cock. The quiet moans that Sam can never seem to hold back fill his ears in the otherwise silent library, and Kevin comes with a quick jerk of his hips, savoring the quick swallows as Sam takes his come. 

Kevin tucks himself away, zipping up as he stands, and gesturing for Sam to come out from beneath the table. He helps the taller man stand, noting the redness of his palms and knees and the slight wince as Sam straightens his legs. 

“How does stretching out on the couch sound?” Kevin asks gently, rubbing at the sore skin of Sam’s legs. 

“I would like that,” Sam answers, voice a little raspy but he smiles when Kevin meets his eye. He’s relaxed where he stands, shoulders loose and hands resting freely at his sides. Good. 

Leading the way to the living room, Kevin puts on a documentary they’d both planned on watching and sits back on the couch. He tugs Sam to curl against him, pleased when the older man goes without complaint and makes himself comfortable. Sam doesn’t protest when Kevin gently massages his hands, eking away the soreness that build up from bearing his weight under the table. Nor does he protest when those hands wander down his chest, so that fingers can trace over the lines of the cage between his legs. 

“So good for me, Sam,” Kevin murmurs, brushing a kiss against a suddenly-hot cheek. He thinks that maybe the cage will come off tomorrow, rather than two days from now. Sam has certainly earned it, after all. 


End file.
